True Enough
by medcat
Summary: This travel-by-fire method of yours is quite something, it is! This story was originally written in Russian by Fairy-Tale Prince, who kindly granted me permission to translate and post. It is a six-fandom crossover: Harry Potter, Master and Margarita, Cinderella, Alice in Wonderland, The Three Musketeers, and Eugene Onegin.
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter was sitting by the fireplace and gloomily thinking, "I should invite someone, after all. Maybe Ginny? Or Luna?"

"This damn ball," he mumbled. At that moment, Seamus and Dean, who were having a pillow fight, bumped into Harry, knocked over the dish of floo powder and pushed Harry into the fireplace.

Harry was spun around in the Floo network and spit out onto the floor in a very fancy foyer. Lit candles stood around the room, a well-dressed young man missing a leg and with a rope around his neck was going up the staircase in front of Harry, and on the upper stair landing, some skinny old man was kissing the knee of a completely naked woman. Harry goggled. But before he could even open his mouth, an impossibly large black cat sidled up to him on the right and meowed:

"Oh, how unexpected! Come up the staircase, young man. You must pay your respects to the Queen!"

The cat took him by the elbow and started dragging him upstairs. Harry started getting a headache and rubbed at his scar, as was his habit.

"Oh my, I see you're having the same problems as Messire," the cat nattered on, as he kept dragging Harry upstairs. "I'll give you an ointment, young man. It helps for knee pain remarkably well, and I'm certain it'll work for you too. Well, come on, don't be timid! We'll find you a dance partner, you'll learn to dance, too, while you're here."

"True enough," thought Harry and briskly headed up the stairs.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sort through the grain, plant the roses, what else...Ah yes, clean the fireplace!"

The evil stepmother straightened the ruffles on her chest with her fat fingers and commanded,

"Let's go, girls!"

Cinderella was angry, and, therefore, she was scrubbing the fireplace with such fervour that the air was thick with coal dust. To get the fireplace properly clean, she had to climb almost entirely inside.

"This accursed ball!" she breathed out through gritted teeth, in time with movement of the scrubbing brush, and right away an inexplicable force spun her around and tossed her onto the carpet in front of a huge fireplace.

"I am going to complain to the Ministry!" someone's voice hissed nearby. "What is this shambles, anyway?!"

Cinderella looked up and saw a man descending the stairs. He was wearing an old nightshirt and using a foil as a walking-stick, leaning heavily on it.

"Behemoth, get her out of here pronto, or else he'll bite our heads off," the same voice hissed.

"It's too late," someone meowed from the right. "Fagot, get the girl to come to, and I'll go make my explanations to Messire."

Immediately, the gentleman attired in a black frock coat appeared in her field of vision and pulled her upwards, saying,

"Come, mademoiselle, get up. You'd wanted to go to the ball, if I remember correctly? Here's your lucky chance!"

Around Cinderella, ladies and gentlemen were appearing, exiting the fireplace, and ascending the stairs. What surprised the poor girl the most was that all of the ladies were completely naked. As soon as she thought that, the gentleman in the black frock coat, as if reading her mind, said,

"In your place, I would be glad of this circumstance. You don't have too many ball dresses, after all."

"True enough," thought Cinderella and briskly headed up the staircase.


	3. Chapter 3

"What shall I do about my diamond necklace," muttered the queen, standing near the cold fireplace. "Accursed Duke, accursed Cardinal, accursed ball."

At that moment, there was a soft knock on the door. The queen startled, awkwardly turned around, slipped and fell right into the fireplace. She felt dizzy and closed her eyes. And when she opened her eyes, she discovered that the fireplace somehow miraculously got several times bigger.

"I am going to smash the Floo Network Department to smithereens! This is an outrage, it is!" someone was fuming, but the queen didn't have the time to see who it was. An elegant gentleman in a frock coat took her hand and said,

"Welcome, dear Anna. Come and greet the queen."

She reared up in indignation. She was the queen here! But the gentleman lifted his hands in an appeasing gesture.

"I understand your indignation, but think for a moment-when else would you be able to attend a ball where nobody cares about your diamond necklace, or about who you are? Is it not worth it? Just this once, you'll be able to enjoy yourself as much as you want."

"True enough," thought the queen and headed up the stairs.


	4. Chapter 4

"Pudding, this is Alice," could be heard from upstairs. "Alice, this is pudding."

The cat was making his way underneath the table, evading men's and women's dress shoes. Finally, he got out from under the table and was already approaching the exit, when, right in front of the fireplace, a clumsy servant carrying a tray ran right into him. The cat leaped aside and landed on the cooling embers with all four paws.

"This accursed ball!" he hissed. And disappeared.

"Ah, dear colleague," Behemoth greeted him by the fireplace. "Welcome. Is something the matter with you today? You are not in the mood?"

"I would say that the mood is not in me," the cat replied pensively. "Although one cannot claim that the mood is entirely absent. But its better half definitely is. If you understand what I'm talking about."

"But you can't appear before the queen looking like this!" Behemoth cried out, "it would be impolite to the greatest degree! To the greatest degree!"

"True enough," thought the Cheshire cat, and smiled.


	5. Chapter 5

"How much he resembled a poet,  
When he sat in the corner alone,  
And the fire burned in the fireplace in front of him,  
And he hummed, 'Benedetta',  
Or 'Idol mio' and dropped into the fire  
His slipper or his magazine, in turn."

"Idol mio, piu расе non ho," Onegin drawled, rather off-key.

He was in a vile mood. Dropping his magazine onto his lap and stretched his feet towards the fire.

"If it weren't for that fateful meeting, I could be entirely peaceful and happy now. And the image of dear Tatiana would not linger in front of my eyes every moment, not letting me seek oblivion in either wine, or merriment, or sleep. Why has fate punished me so," he sighed, crossing his legs. "That accursed ball!"

His house-slipper slid off his foot and fell into the fireplace. Eugene reached for the poker, to retrieve the slipper with it, and his magazine slid into the fireplace down the smooth silk hem of his dressing-gown. Both the slipper and the magazine immediately vanished in the fire. Surprised, Eugene swayed, and just as he was, in an awkward half-crouch, still holding the poker, fell into the fireplace head first.

Strangely, the fireplace turned out to be enormous and very cold. While Onegin was getting up and straightening up his dressing-gown, he heard two men talking nearby.

"It seems to me that Messire will be questioning us."

"He definitely will, you may take it as a given, and we will be compelled to answer."

"And what will we tell him? Why did this fellow appear here, and in this disheveled state, to boot? That is simply outrageous."

"Absolutely indefensible," echoed the other voice. "Carrying a poker and with one foot bare! That takes the biscuit, it does!"

Onegin leaned his poker against the wall, groped for his missing slipper, jammed it onto his foot and turned towards the staircase, upon which dozens of naked ladies were ascending, along with the gentlemen.

"Oh, these ladies' feet," thought Onegin, and, drawing his dressing-gown more tightly around himself, hastened to ascend behind them.

"Flighty rascal," someone stated behind him.

"He can go to the devil, for all I care," replied the other.

True enough.


End file.
